


Gravity II: Opposing Forces

by Alithea



Series: Gravity [2]
Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-29
Updated: 2014-03-16
Packaged: 2017-12-27 22:08:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/984164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alithea/pseuds/Alithea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ten years after the Gundam Wars Sylvia Noventa finds herself at the center of a dangerous plot. Meanwhile, she attempts to deal with her own feelings as Lady Une's subtlety becomes something else entirely. F/F elements, and eventual coupling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prelude: Janus

The three men stood in a small room on the observing end of a two-way mirror. On the other side, demonstrating expert skills in assassination, was a young woman with chestnut brown hair. She moved with a catlike grace, and her precision was frightening.

"Of course," Tsubarov said dismissively,"there is a small chance that the split will become permanent."

"Hmm," Duke Dermail, the leader of The Romefeller Foundation nodded as he continued to watch the exercise taking place in the other room. "She's the best candidate?"

"Without question, sir. Once the process is complete she'll be a doll at our command." Tsubarov grinned with satisfaction and added, "Of course once my other project gets off the ground there will be no need for human interference in battle again."

Dermail gave the man a sideways glance and then nodded, remembering the pet project sitting on his desk and awaiting his approval. With the success of this Janus experiment though Dermail found he would likely have to reward his chief engineer in some way. The pipedream of an army with limited human participation seemed like a fair enough trade.

"Does this cadet know what she's signed up for," Dermail asked.

"No. We thought it best to merely offer this opportunity as advanced training, sir," Tsubarov replied. "Her aptitude for this kind of work is already off the charts, and she's young enough that there shouldn't be any of the problematic side effects lesser candidates have fallen prey to."

The duke nodded and turned to the third man in the room who had remained silent. The young man was very bright and sure to become one of the next leaders of the foundation. "And, what do you think about this, Colonel Kushrenada?"

The young man smiled and asked, "Will my opinion really have any impact on your final decision?"

"None."

"Then my opinion is of no importance." He turned, looked at Tsubarov, and said, "Do contact me if you find this Lady requires a handler."

Tsubarov huffed.

"Lady," Duke Dermail questioned, ever mindful of the fate of the aristocracy.

"Of course," Colonel Khushrenada stated. "She comes from a lesser, but noble house in the Germanies."

Duke Dermail looked at the woman again and then said, "Tsubarov, you'd better be damned sure it'll take."

Insulted Tsubarov said, "There will be no problems. She'll be controllable."

"Good. What will you call her?"

"We've decided on Eleven, sir."

Colonel Khushrenada stepped closer to the glass and shook his head at the play on the young woman's last name. It was tasteless, but it was done. She was spectacular though, and perhaps if he had the opportunity he could fix what these old men were breaking.


	2. Chapter 1: Fear and Loathing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nichol and Trowa contemplate their mission. Lady Une thinks over her fears. Sylvia and Sally share a moment.

The file was full of information that Nichol had never suspected about Lady Une, and he felt honored and a little frightened that she would trust him with it. What truly struck him was Treize Khushrenada's use of Lady Une as an assassin. She was nearly flawless in her execution of orders with her only major missteps occurring during the Gundam battles. Specifically, her attempt on Vice Minister Darlian, which, while successful was graceless in it's design and nearly failed.

And, then, there was the other revelation, Project Janus. It was possibly the most disturbing thing he had ever encountered. The idea of taking a soldier who was trained to kill and turning her into nothing more than a puppeted killer was appalling. There would be no chance for moral consideration, the file had stated, there would be only orders. These subjects would be perfect assassins and soldiers on the frontlines. Or at least they would have been if the process hadn't left all but one of the subjects so insane they had to be terminated, and, technically, Tsubarov had tried to terminate Une as well. Suddenly Une's split was less romantic, and all the more disturbing because Trieze had tried to repair what Janus had done to the Lady. But, there was no fixing her. There was merely, containment.

Darren Nichol had already disposed of the file and was waiting patiently for his partner to arrive. He never liked Trowa Barton, and he knew it was because Barton was so much better than him at reading Lady Une. He tapped his fingers along his table at the pub, and tried to imagine Lady Une as a sniper up in some bell tower, or hidden amongst the rushes out in the wilderness. 

He was shaken from his thoughts as Trowa Barton entered the pub and immediately sat down across from him.

Trowa wasted no time and asked, "What do you think?"

Nichol scowled without meaning to and shook his head. "I think she already knows that another split in imminent."

"Curious."

"What the hell do you mean by that?" 

Trowa sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, as well as his legs. "What I mean, Nichol, is that it's curious she should do such a thing. It tells me a lot about the current situation."

"Does it?" He considered what he knew. Une was a very private person and the information she gave him was tantamount to admitting she was having an affair with Sylvia Noventa, not forgetting that she was in fact mentally unfit to lead because of what was done to her by Project Janus. Nichol focused on the supposed affair, because the other thing scared him too much. "She's not-"

"No, she is not. She wasn't with Treize either. How did you not know that?"

"I just... So, perhaps, whomever is behind all this believes she is."

Trowa nodded. "Which puts this all on a very precarious perch."

"No soft peace loving lady will emerge because of this." 

"Do you remember when Gundam 01 self-destructed? Do you remember why?"

Nichol nodded. "A dark lady rises, willing to destroy everything."

"And the timing couldn't be worse."

***** 

Lady Une's office was dark except for the dull yellow shine from a small desk lamp. She was standing by the window and staring down into the courtyard. A half reflection could be seen in the glass, and it smirked as Une found herself frowning. This was how it started. She could feel it at the back of her mind. Voices she had thought buried calling her to a purpose. She turned away from the window and sat back down at her desk. She looked briefly at the photo of Mariemea on her desk, before turning her attention to a report that was sitting there.

Most of the information from Project Janus had been lost. There were no details to provide her with a solution to her problem. Her problem was that she felt she recognized the signature of the threats and attacks that were occupying her time. She noted the cruel and elegant use of outside groups. The culling of opposition, and the integration of useful pieces. Yet, whatever this threat was had not named itself, and _that_ in itself was a clue.

She thought of the things she wanted. The things she had set out to do when she accepted her post at the Preventers. It was all meant to lead to peace, but everything the Preventers had become was also very dangerous. The President and most of the major political players supported the group, because to do otherwise meant admitting that the earth and the colonies required a military force, and other entities to keep it safe. And it did, but as everything the Preventers did became more covert the more could be hidden from wider view. There was a subcommittee assigned to overview the organization, but their focus was narrow. Things missed their attention.

Une pushed the report away and shut her eyes. She was afraid of being the cause of further strife. She was afraid of not being able to protect the people she held dear, of losing the chance at something that might make her happy. She was afraid of the cold and cruel voice at the back of her head that said, "I will not be denied."

****** 

"When do you think we can leave," Sylvia asked from the couch.

Sally was huddled over her secure computer, probably reading encrypted communiques. 

Sylvia tilted her head to try and see Sally's expression, but turned back around when the attempt proved fruitless. She grimaced, and then picked up her book, but couldn't focus on the words before her. 

"We can leave soon, but I'm afraid it'll just be to another safe house," Sally finally said softly. She stepped over and leaned over the couch. "Things have gotten…" She trailed off and then moved around to sit on the couch. "Complicated is a word, but disturbing is better."

"Disturbing how," Sylvia asked, and added, "And remember I'm a tough chick- Your words- I can take it."

Sally nodded. "There's a possibility that security has been compromised which means knowing who can be trusted is a bit twisty."

"This is impossibly frustrating."

"I know."

"And there's not enough for me to do."

Sally shrugged, "I can see if the next safe house has a television. You can see what Vice Foreign Minister Darlian is up to." 

"Because that will make me feel _so_ much better," the ire rose in her throat, stopped by Sally laughing at her. "And, you need to stop that."

 

"Sorry."

"I mean it," Sylvia stated, confessing, "You're unacceptably attractive when you tease, and I have enough weird feelings to deal with without-" She stopped herself, and asked a question for a second time, "What about you, Sally?"

The older woman leaned back into the couch and shut her eyes. "We should really have this conversation when things are less...emotionally tricky. But, that isn't going to happen anytime soon. For now, Sylvia, let's just say I understand your annoyance at the Lady's subtly, having experienced it first hand."

"Oh." She blinked. And then held her breath as Sally took her hand. She looked over at the woman and couldn't think of anything to say, so she scooted herself over and leaned her head against Sally's shoulder. 

"She may have done this on purpose. Putting us at close quarters all the time," Sally whispered. "It's easier to keep things at arms length. Even if it's tearing her apart."

"Why?"

"She doesn't want to lose herself again." 

Sylvia nodded recalling rumors from the war, whispers about a split and the reasons why. She squeezed Sally's hand. "I won't wait forever, Sal."

"I know," Sally replied. "You won't have to."

To be continued…


	3. Chapter 2: Divergence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trowa and Nichol seek more information. Sally and Sylvia are on the run. Things start to get complicated.

The remains of the Romefeller headquarters had begun to show signs of its disuse. It sat on disputed lands, and with the current political climate would, in all likelihood, be left to rot until, perhaps, safety issues would force an agreement to tear it down. The grounds were overgrown, and the once well kept pathways and gardens grew wild, while trees began to assert themselves through windows and up through the pavement. Animals, too, had begun to claim the space for themselves. Squirrels, and birds finding homes within the walls and inside disused filing cabinets.

There was no security system left operational either, which was why Trowa Barton and Darren Nichol were strolling comfortably towards their destination deep within the building's basements. Trowa seemed to be enjoying himself amongst the ruins more than his companion, but Trowa saw things differently. He knew rushing wouldn't help, though he did agree when Nichol mentioned that it certainly couldn't hurt. Nichol wanted to see if there was any documentation left from the original experiment. He wanted to know what he was truly up against, because the split he had seen in Lady Une while frightening was nothing to what was briefly mentioned about the sleeper within her, Eleven.

Trowa stopped at a row of filing cabinets and opened one. There was nothing inside except the shredded remains of documents neatly fluffed together to make a small rat's nest. He shut the cabinet without disturbing the occupants and moved on to the next row. There seemed to be very little left, and then as he searched Nichol found another door to open. He picked the lock and called Trowa over.

"Nice little set up," Trowa said as he looked around the space. It had been fashioned into a small bunk. He wandered about the small space and picked up a trinket from what was serving as a nightstand.

"Guess the place isn't as abandoned as we thought," Nichol said and snatched up a bit of fabric from a chair. He looked at the remains of a patch on it, which caught Trowa's eye.

"Let me see that." Trowa snatched it away without full permission, taking it in his hand and nodding sadly.

"Military regiment?"

"No," Trowa said bunching the bit of cloth into his fists. "No, _this_ is from a bunch of rebels. Mercenaries really. Not really good guys, but not terribly bad either. But this…" He tossed the patch aside. "This is interesting. We should try to find her."

"Who?"

"The traitor," Trowa stated calmly. "Middie, might have what we're looking for."

Nichol arched an eyebrow. "I'm not fond of traitors."

"I know," Trowa said with a smile. "That's why I'm counting on you."

Trowa moved out of the room and started walking back towards the stairs. Nichol stayed behind and looked around the small space. It was the sort of residence taken up in desperation. He stepped over and looked at the remains of the patch, narrowing his eyes as he considered that desperate traitors did stupid things. The girl wouldn't be hard to find. What was hard to gauge was Barton's reaction to the girl, did he forgive her, or was there harbored resentment? Nichol couldn't read his partner well enough to tell. His own instincts just told him that it was a precarious path he was on.

******

Gunfire in the distance caused Sally to increase the car's speed as she took a sharp corner into a narrow alleyway. Sylvia clung to her seat as she kept low to the window, feeling a bit nauseous from the jerking movements of the car as Sally tried to avoid pedestrians and other vehicles. This was now the third location they had been rooted from in as many days, and Sylvia was beginning to wonder if there was something going on within the Preventer organization. She had brought it up to Sally the last time they had escaped, and the former Alliance major just grinned in that damned collected way she always did before saying, "Most likely. Time for the zeta plan."

Sylvia had shut her eyes once she heard the glass of the back window break, covering her face with her hands as she sunk towards the floor of the passenger seat. And then there were more gunshots, more furious car movements and tires screeching before there was nothing but the hum of the car's engine, and the long stuttered release of breath from Sally in the driver's seat.

"You can come back up," Sally said eventually.

Sylvia managed to comply. She surveyed the damage to the car, the blanket of glass in the back seat, the bullet holes that told of near misses, and then she looked at Sally who had a very determined look on her face.

"I'm going to tell you this as calmly as I can," Sally said, and then sucked in a sharp breath. "I've been shot in the leg." Another breath, and the gritted teeth as she continued, "New plan, is this… Zeta means we're off grid. No help from outside, just us. So, I need you to drive where I tell you to. Can you do that?"

Sylvia nodded.

"Good." Sally stopped the car and gripped the steering wheel tightly. Then she leaned over to the glove compartment and pulled out a small medkit. Sliding to the passenger seat as Sylvia shakily ran around to take the wheel. She quickly administered a pain killer and applied a patch to her leg that would stop the bleeding for a short while. But the nano field dressing was a short term solution to what felt like a bigger problem.

"Where are we going?" Sylvia asked as she started the car.

"Doctor. Directions are in my phone." Sally shut her eyes. "Painkiller packs quite the punch," she slurred and then passed out.

******

"There she is," Trowa said as he leaned across the steering wheel of the car. "She's getting herself coffee."

"She looks-"

"I know," Trowa cut in. "The years have been very kind, but her situation hasn't changed since I knew her."

He opened the car door and stepped out of it. Nichol followed from behind veering towards the coffee shop's back door as Trowa stepped in the front. There was regular clatter, and the chatter of patrons. Then Trowa spoke. He just said the girl's name, and on cue she bolted for the back. Nichol caught her with a firm grip, and she didn't even scream. She just looked at the ground in resignation.

They walked Middie over to the car and put her in the back. Trowa refused the suggestion of handcuffs and looked at the girl via the rearview mirror saying, "It wouldn't take us long to find her again. Would it, Middie?"

She shook her head and sneered in contempt. She sat back in the seat and crossed her arms over her chest.

"How's your family," Trowa asked conversationally.

"Dead," she spat.

Trowa nodded, and then said, "I want to see whatever information you still have left from the Romefeller building. And in return," he grinned and turned to look at her over his shoulder. "In return, we won't throw your pretty face in jail for selling information to terrorists."

Middie shook her head and sighed. "Whatever. It doesn't matter."

Nichol kept from saying anything to the girl, but he got a feeling about her. He looked at Trowa and said, "She won't have anything useful. It's not like Romefeller would be dumb enough leave stuff like Janus around."

And there, in the mere mention of the project's name, the girl panicked. Nichol nodded to himself. Desperation. The girl stank of it. She swam in it. Lived in it so deeply she couldn't get a scheme to work that would lead her completely out of it.

"I see," Trowa said and started to drive. "Couldn't get a buyer for that one, could you?"

Middie shut her eyes. "Make a left up at the next light. I'll give it to you. Just...just leave me alone."

"Middie?" A warning tone in the slight question.

"If it's a trap, you'll now before we get there."

"What do you think, Nichol?"

Nichol shrugged and then said, "I don't think she's lying."

******

Lady Une fixed the lines of her jacket as she looked at herself in the mirror. She had put in for an immediate leave of absence on medical grounds. There was no way she could remain, but everything was being handled. Chang Wufie had been given full command of the Preventers, and though the post was meant to be temporary she was sure a bright young man like that could handle things for the long term if need be.

She picked up her bag and left her house. Everything was prepared. Everything had been set. She adjusted her glasses along the bridge of her nose and stepped into a taxi that was waiting just outside her house.

Her phone rang and she answered it. "Did they find you?"

"Yes," a girl replied.

"And did you give them what they asked for?"

"Yes."

"And," Une's voice changed suddenly, dark and menacing, "are you prepared for what's next, Middie?"

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes... Eleven. I'll- I'll do what you need me to." Middie replied shakily, frightened.

"Good. Don't call again," Eleven stated. "I'll find you if I need you."

 

To be continued…


	4. Chapter 3: Objects in Motion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trowa has a thought. Eleven begins her mission. Sally recovers.

Iria woke to the muffled sound of arguing. She sat up and stretched in the uncomfortable chair of the small clinic's waiting room. The past few hours had been a blur of racing to that location, Sally being rushed off into surgery, and the odd glances from the small clinic staff as she waited patiently for any kind of news. The argument grew louder, and she recognized the lower tones of Sally's voice as she tried to calm whomever she was speaking to.

"Don't give me that!" And then the barely audible continuation followed by, "-and for what? For her?"

The door opened and the doctor Sylvia had seen when she arrived with Sally stormed out of the room flush with rage that tried to calm itself once she realized that Sylvia was watching her. She tried to smile when she said, "You can see her now."

Sylvia wasted no time and stepped into the small room.

Sally smiled at her weakly. "We weren't discussing you."

"I should hope not," Sylvia replied lightly.

"We're safe here for now," Sally stated calmly. "If only because Iria won't let me leave until she thinks I'm field ready."

"She's mad at you because…" She shook her head. She could guess.

"Because I am doing my job," Sally said to finish the unspoken thought.

Sylvia nodded and took Sally's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. She smiled and then said, "Is this where we pick up our conversation about friendly exes?"

Sally laughed, and nodded.

**********

Trowa was taking copious notes, while Nichol did nothing but watch completely agog at the vidclip Middie had handed over to them. The clip was a top secret taping of what Eleven could do, and as Trowa considered the performance (because Eleven was clearly hamming it up for the hidden camera) he tried to imagine the look on Tubarov's face when Lady Une faced him on Barge. She was one of his greatest works. The mobile dolls were nothing compared to what had been achieved with Une. How it must have irritated him to see her fixed, or at least healing.

He stopped the clip as Eleven was mid-strike on an attack dummy. Nichol looked at him, too many thoughts floating around his head to make a coherent sentence.

"She's impressive," Trowa stated.

"Impressive," Nichol shouted, he couldn't help himself. "She's a goddamned nightmare! And did you see? Did you see? She knew right where that camera was hidden."

"Good, I was afraid you'd missed that part." Trowa pursed his lips and then said, "I wonder."

"What?"

"I just wonder if the developers of this program might have…" He trailed off and then stood up. "Yes, they probably did."

"Where are we going," Nichol asked.

Trowa grinned. "No one gives you enough credit, Nichol. You're very bright." He grabbed his coat and swung it over his shoulder. "We're going to a colony. Grab that vidclip will you."

*******  
Chang Wufei had read over the note at least a dozen times. It was in a code, and he knew it had to be because otherwise it just didn't make any sense. He stood in Une's former office and reread it again and tried to figure out what the woman was trying to tell him. Her leave was not exactly medical. She was trying to protect something, or someone, or multiple people. She wouldn't just retire. It wasn't her style. She'd respect the need of her subordinates to say goodbye, even if she was not particularly good at them.

He set the paper on what was now his desk and looked up as someone knocked on the door and immediately entered. He grimaced as he was faced with Mariemaia Khushrenada. She looked nonplussed for a moment and then nodded sadly.

"I thought it was a joke when someone told me," she said.

"She didn't see you?"

"No." She approached the desk and looked at the piece of paper sitting there. "May I?"

Wufei nodded and said, "It doesn't make sense."

The girl, ran her fingers through her short red hair as her eyes moved over the words in the note. She mouthed the words and repeated her reading at least twice before a strange grin slid onto her face. "But it does. It makes perfect sense, except her reasons."

He arched an eyebrow.

"Code." She stated.

"Yes, but-"

"Oh," Mariemaia blinked. "You didn't get it." She chewed at the bottom of her lip and then said, "Family sort of forbid us from speaking, but there was just no way I would listen to that. Anyway, the code- I'll teach you- but first the gist of it is Barton and Nichol are on special orders, and Sally is off grid."

He nodded. "You think she'll send more notes?"

"Probably."

"Then congratulations, Ms. Khushrenada, you are now a temporary Preventer."

"What?"

********

Eleven looked at the men in front of her. They were cowards, and so giving them orders was easy. Especially since she had just quite literally ripped the beating heart of their leader out of his chest. She looked at the blood on her hands and grinned.

"You understand," she asked and then drew two bloody lines down the right side of her face with her fingers.

"Yes."

"Good. Take the bomb and plant it at the Vice Foreign Minister's house. Make sure it's found, and only detonate it once it's been reported. I want to jog the Minister's memory."

"W-why?"

Eleven did her best not to laugh at the sudden courageous question. "Because, this is a rebellion, and it's the sort of thing rebels do."

The two men nodded and she waved them away.

She smiled. Yes, it was rebellion, but not the sort these men were looking for.

"If you're too scary they won't follow you," Middie said from the far corner, trembling just slightly.

"Yes, they will," Eleven said. "They will follow me because I'm a monster, and do you know why?"

Middie shook her head.

"Because it is what they secretly imagine themselves to be. But, they've no idea. So, I'll teach them, and watch it destroy them from the inside."

"But why?"

"Because there is no place for men like that in His Excellency's vision." She looked down at the body at her feet. "Get me a towel, would you? I need to start cleaning up this mess."

To be continued…


	5. Chapter 4: Further Analysis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trowa looks deeper into the Janus Project. Wufei deals with Relena.

Metropolis, otherwise known as Colony Z19, hovered nearest to Jupiter with an impressive resource satellite in tow. The exterior was the just as any other colony, but it was what was inside that mattered. It was called Metropolis because it was one giant city. There were no suburbs, just a vast sea of skyscrapers and other synthetic stone buildings. It was neon lit and quite the impressive sight to see during the evening hours. Everything glowed, except the large tract of green that divided the colony into east and west sides, a grandiose homage to the Earth's Central Park in what was once New York City. It split itself evenly between between being a prosperous tourist attraction, and notable living destination. And, like any city it had its fair share of problems.

The weather controls had planned a warm and wet week. It downpoured and when it stopped the cloying humidity would kick in. The colony prided itself on the wide range of seasonable weather it could provide for visitors and citizens alike. The PR team decided that that sounded better than constantly providing apologies for a weather system that was always in need of repair, and overall hardly anyone seemed to remember that Metropolis was always meant to have perfect weather. 

Nichol and Trowa had been staking out a set of apartment complexes for the better part of two weeks. They sat in a small car whose floor was littered with empty Chinese food containers, discarded cups of coffee, and numerous cans of an energy drink simply called _ZOT!!!_. At this point Nichol was ready to tell his partner that their quarry wasn't ever going to show up. He was tired, crankier than usual, and in desperate need of a long hot shower. Trowa was in the middle of devouring a third container of beef noodles when he stopped and quite abruptly stepped out of the car.

"Stay here," he commanded and then jogged off towards the apartment building. Nichol watched as he casually approached an old man in a Hawaiian shirt and sporting rather dark sunglasses for that particular time in the evening. The man seemed surprised and then sagged in defeat before shrugging and urging Trowa to follow him. Trowa then turned to wave Nichol over, smiling rather peculiarly, which would have been worrying if Nichol hadn't gotten to know more about the young man's habits than he ever intended to. 

Nichol left the car and ignored the trash that spilled out behind him. He jogged over and stepped into the building behind the old man while Trowa held the door open. They walked a short way and then entered a small, rather flamboyantly decorated apartment. The old man pulled a six pack of cheap beer from the fridge and offered them up politely. Trowa accepted happily. Nichol merely licked his lips and shook his head, standing with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Suppose you boys get on with it," the old man said.

Trowa popped open his can of beer, took a long sip, and then asked, "Howard, what do you know about the Janus program?"

Howard pulled his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose and gave Trowa a long look. "No one's supposed to know about that one, kid. Not even someone as skilled as you."

"Well, I suppose the program isn't meant to have any survivors, but there's the problem with secret experiments, Howard. There's almost always a survivor, and she's damned dangerous," Trowa stated, taking another sip of the beer before setting it down. "So, what we need is anything you can tell us about it. And…" The long pause tilted the tone in Trowa's voice a pitch darker than Nichol had ever heard it go, "We need to know if this project was ever in anyway linked to Operation Meteor." 

Nichol's eyes went wide for a moment, and he saw the way the old man began to pale. 

"Right," Trowa said. "So, tell us everything so we can stop it, and maybe save some lives."

Howard nodded and asked, "Eleven went off reservation." He thought a moment. "You know, she was almost fixed, but Trieze hadn't counted on something."

"What was that," Nichol asked, his throat dry.

"The insane depth of her loyalty."

********

Eleven gripped Midii firmly by the wrist. She stared down at the girl and said very softly, "If you ever try that again I'll gouge your eyes out. Do you understand?" 

Midii nodded, and leapt back a few paces once she was released. She held her wrist and shut her eyes tightly. 

"The others may be easily swayed by a pretty face, but I am not," Eleven stated as an added warning. "If you want to live through this I suggest you develop a sense of loyalty, and duty to our cause." 

Eleven stepped out of the room and into the brightness of the day. Other voices prodded at the back of her mind and she grinned, almost laughed. "His Excellency promised I could come back out when I was needed. Am I not needed, ladies? Am I not a necessary evil at this juncture?" She paused, there was no reply from within, and then said, "As I thought."

**********

Relena Darlain stood outside the smoking remains of her house and stared at the wreckage. No one, to her knowledge, had been hurt in the blast except for the two men planting the bomb. She gazed at the way the smoke trailed upward into the sky and felt a sharp twinge of familiarity. Her fists clenched together at her sides and she nodded. Chang Wufei the acting director for the Preventers had moved next to her with his arms crossed. She gave him a sideways glance and prepared for a heated exchange. She had never liked him, but that was because he refused to play politics around her. And, while she did not realize this was the reason for her distrust of him, it very much was. She was used to people playing the game around her, and being subtle. Chang Wufei was not subtle. He bulldozed his way around and still got results. 

Relena took a breath and said, "This feels familiar."

"To what," and his voice was as rigid and cold towards her as ever. 

"Back in the war, when my father-"

"I'll look the footage up."

"What else," she demanded.

He turned and said, "We will investigate."

"That's it."

"Yes," he replied. "That is what we do. We investigate and quell threats."

She felt her eye twitch. "You know who this has to be, don't you? I know who it is."

"Do you," Wufei asked moving his arms behind his back. 

"This has Une's fingerprints all over it." 

He smiled, which was off putting in itself because she wasn't used to it. "And you have definitive proof of this?"

Relena's mouth hung agape for a moment and she said, "No."

He nodded and stepped away from her towards a car. Relena felt a surge of anger she hadn't felt in a very long time. She would have to wait for answers, but she would only wait so long. Wufei did not play politics, but she did, and she was very good at it now that she was older. She knew how to get results from the Preventers, and she would. 

******* 

"She looks very angry," Mariemaia said from the back of the car. "And, you seem to enjoy poking at her."

Wufei gripped the steering wheel and nodded. "The Vice Foreign Minister does not appreciated my methods, and she's spoiled. Une gave her what she wanted to keep her out of her hair. I want her in our hair."

"Why?"

"Because I feel like someone's trying to start something. Another war, or something like that, but I can't see the edges." He leaned back into his seat and started the car. "Any new notes?"

"None from Une, but one from Trowa." She smiled and said, "He's super clever."

"He is, but let's hope he doesn't get too clever," Wufei replied. "Last time he got too clever and I nearly killed him."

****** 

"At least two of us," Trowa said under his breath. He turned to watch Nichol shift in the motel bed. He had purposefully lost a game of roshambo so that his companion could get a good night's sleep. He liked Nichol because his prickly nature and ability to find liars came in handy. Tonight Trowa needed to think, and he thought better when Nichol was otherwise occupied. 

Howard said that he knew of at least two boys from Operation Meteor who might also have been a part of the Janus program. That was one pilot too many to have been experimented on, and given his own early memory loss as a child it made him dread the outcome of discovering the truth. He wondered if Une knew about the boys, or if maybe someone who had reactivated Une knew about the boys. Having Eleven was firepower enough, but the added skill of a Gundam pilot might just tip the scales all the way. Further investigation was needed, including investigation into himself, which was tricky. 

Trowa let out a breath and tried to imagine where Sally and Sylvia might have gotten to. He still couldn't figure out that angle of attack. Sylvia Noventa was so unimportant, and yet major players seemed to take an interest in her. Heero had gone to seek his death from her. Relena had gone to university with her, and, if the rumors were to believed stole the girl's lover from her while acting like her friend. Une was smitten enough with the girl to hide her away on the family estate. And Sally… His thoughts drifted and he smiled. Sally wasn't someone who was immediately considered a major player. Yet, there she was at the forefront of his thoughts, because Une had selected her as Sylvia's protector. Sally must have known something about what was going on. 

He nodded to himself. It was dangerous for everyone, but he was just going to have to find Sally and Sylvia. Strings were being pulled, and a puppetmaster had to be discovered.

"And an End Game," he stated aloud. "There has to be a reason for all of this. It doesn't feel like a normal plot. What do you want exactly?" 

To be continued…


End file.
